


please move all meetings to march 31st

by waterpots



Category: Oh My Girl (Band)
Genre: F/F, Parks and Rec AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 02:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14760711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterpots/pseuds/waterpots
Summary: with Seunghee and Hyojung at the helm of the well oiled ship that is the Parks and Recreation department, there are many ways they could fail





	please move all meetings to march 31st

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allthislove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthislove/gifts).



> prompt: parks and rec au. seunghee centric. this is a mix of seunghee centric and arin centric, however, mostly because arin centric maybe would have fit the narrative a little better, but i worked the two in together. things are also rather understated, i'm hoping to maybe write more with this in the future, since there's a lot of ways i could go with it. also, everything that happened in the town meeting scenes has happened in my town before.
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!! thank you :D

Seunghee’s the first one there in the morning, the first one that starts the day. It used to be Hyojung, back when Seunghee first started, and Hyojung had her job, and she had Jiho’s job, and Jiho was still in school.

Now Hyojung’s the head of the department, and though she starts her day earlier than Seunghee, she does more work at home. It’s because she has to deal with town meeting members more, and the other subgroups of their department. Seunghee figures she’ll get Hyojung’s job one day, when the town finally realizes the millions of hours of hard work Hyojung’s put into the place and gives her bigger and better things to do, so Seunghee relishes the time she has to just focus on the Parks and Rec department, the time she gets to watch them thrive.

“I find this  _flagrant_ disregard of authority uncouth and, frankly, preposterous,” Jiho said, taking on an air of extreme dignity, even rolling her r’s for the impeccable dramatic effect it carries. She’s standing in front of Shiah’s desk. Seunghee doesn’t recall them coming in, but the clock on her laptop says it’s past nine at this point; she’s been doing paperwork for a lot longer than she thought she had.

“Are you shittalking your boss?” She asks, grinning as she approaches the two of them.

“Seunghee,” Jiho says, placing a hand on her supervisor’s shoulder. “You are the only person I’ve worked for that I actually like, and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

“Rest in peace Hyojung,” Shiah mumbles.

“Hyojung is basically my mother and therefore does not count. Seunghee, on the other hand, is the greatest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I therefore would do anything for her, except make fun of her.”

“Jiho,” Seunghee said, placing a hand on Jiho’s shoulder. “These words you have spoken honor me greatly. I will do everything I can to not disappoint you.”

“Seunghee,” Jiho re-placed her hand on Seunghee’s shoulder. “Nothing you could do would disappoint me. I would follow you to the ends of the earth.”   
“Jiho,” Seunghee did the same. There’s a pattern here. “Today, you have made me the happiest woman alive.”

“Hey guys. Just thought I’d chime in here to say I hate,” she gestures to the two of them. “  _Whatever_ this is.”

“This is love, bitch.”

* * *

Arin sighs, picks up the bulky camera, and prepares herself. It’s one of those over the shoulder cameras, the kind that she’s pretty sure usually needs a separate person running the sound. She doesn’t get any luxuries like that.

This is maybe not the ideal college internship; it doesn’t pay, it has nothing to do with really anything she’s interested in, and it’s also not “working closely with members of local government enacting change,” like the application said. She was pretty sure they accepted an extra intern this year and had nothing to do with them, thus Arin was stuck with this camera.

She looks down at the assignment paper they gave her, to the first place she’d have to venture. The finances department on the third floor. Arin hummed. That shouldn’t be too bad, they just file paperwork all the time. And then she saw the next department on the list, and she remembered the reason she’d been tipped off to this internship, and the horrors that lay ahead for her.

* * *

“We’re like a big family,” Seunghee says to the camera.

“A big bad family,” Binnie grumbles.

“And you’re the big bad wolf,” Jiho adds, looking directly at Binnie. She glares back.

“They just want us to do simple introductions,” Arin sighs, turing the camera off. “It’s for the website, or some ‘welcome’ video, or something. And it’s the first assignment of my internship, so please take this seriously.”

“I’m Jiho, a brilliant scholar, probably the next President of the United States.”

“I’m not recording.”

“And this is Binnie, or Bae Yoobin,” Jiho said, ignoring her. “She’s a town meeting member and The Worst.”

Binnie frowned.” I regret coming here.”

“Why are you here?” Arin asked.

“I have to meet with Hyojung and Seunghee about a budget proposal.”

“To take us down.” Binnie just rolled her eyes. Jiho took this as a smug victory. “Anyhow, Arin has better things to do than to talk to such pathetic mortals as you.”

“Her name’s Yewon,” Seunghee said, having noted the small handwritten name tag that all interns got on their first day.

“Not if you know better,” Jiho said, grinning smugly. She had a secret, a terrible secret that only she (and Arin) knew, and she was about to tell everyone in the room after drawing it out for as long as humanly possible.

“We went to college together. She calls me Arin. I can’t explain why,” Arin explained with an annoyed sigh. Jiho frowned, only for a moment, then bounced right back.

“I taught this lovely young lass everything I know about philosophy. I was quite good at it, although I’m certain you’re not surprised to hear that.”

Arin rolled her eyes, and Seunghee just smiled.

“So when are you going to get a medal for putting up with the most annoying person in the entirety of humanity?” Binnie asked.

“I won one, but Jiho took it from me,” Arin replied, and Binnie grinned.

“Well, obviously I should get it since  _I_ did all the heavy lifting in this impressive friendship.”

* * *

“So, tell me about yourself,” Arin said, turning on the camera. She was in Binnie’s office, which was incredibly well put together, and Arin found it hard to believe that someone only a few years older than her could have her life so seemingly well put together.

Seemingly.

“Bae Yoobin, town meeting member. I work with the different departments as well as the individual townspeople to write and pass legislature.”

There was a laugh, and Arin was drawn to look at the other person in the office.

“And this is...” she started, trailing off.

“Mimi, attorney at large and in charge. I’m here doing some consulting for Binnie,” Mimi answered. Binnie gave Mimi an odd look, and Arin almost asked, in spite of herself. She shrugged it off though, figuring it probably was something that didn’t need to be recorded and potentially put onto the town’s website.

“So, you’re known for doing the most grassroots campaigning of the town committee members,” Arin started, prompting Binnie for a response.

“Yeah! Certainly. I think it’s easy for us to forget that there are real people involved in legislation we pass, and so I make a very concerted effort to work directly with the people of the town and make sure that the legislation is working for them.” Arin nodded. “A lot of departments have been facing cuts, and they’re underrepresented within the town meeting structure to defend themselves and the needs for their budgets. I’ve been working nonstop to lessen this gap.” Arin nodded.Her response had been scripted, clearly something she had been working on.

“Thanks for your time,” Arin said after shutting the camera off. Binnie smiled, clearly untensing now that the camera wasn’t on her.

“Any time,” she said with a smile.

* * *

“Please tell me about what you’re doing here today..”

“Huh?”

“Hey guys, what’s up, welcome back to my channel. This is ‘not a part of my department’ and she’s just leaving!” Arin glared, lowering the camera.

“Don’t interrupt, this is my job,” Arin said.

“I thought your job was to look at the wonderful happenings of the Parks and Rec department,” Jiho said, gesturing around to their offices. “Not Binnie’s assistant who is once again here, and not working.”

“Binnie’s assistant makes me sound so useless,” Mimi said, frowning. “I have a law degree. I passed the state bar exam.”

Jiho gave her a look. “But you’re here consulting for Binnie?”

“She asked me for some help on some stuff.”

“I tell ya, that’s what happens when you elect someone like  _Binnie_ as a public official. She’ll just let anyone into the town hall. Even  _lawyers!_ ”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “Bye Yewon.  _Bye_ Jiho.”

“I’ll tell ya,” Jiho said to Arin’s camera after Mimi had left the room. Arin regretted not shutting it off. “She’s in the building to ‘help Binnie,’” Jiho did finger quotes.” But she’s here all the time. I think  _something’s_ afoot. Seunghee will never admit it out loud, but she agrees. My hunch: Binnie’s trying to take our department down from the inside.”

* * *

Seunghee didn’t often like walking into the bathroom and finding Jiho standing in front of the sink, scrubbing away at a hairbrush while the water was running, with an uncomfortable looking Arin beside her. Maybe she didn’t like walking in on this at all, but she hadn’t ruled out the possibility yet that there was some situation in which this would be a comfortable and welcome experience.

“What are we up to?” Seunghee asked. Jiho didn’t even look up.

“Lost a bet with Shiah, have to clean her hairbrushes.”

“And you’re doing it during work?”

“I didn’t want to waste the water at home, obviously.”

Seunghee looked at Arin, leaning up against the wall, uncomfortably trying to look anywhere but at her. “And why is Yewon here?”

“Jiho said that if she loses a bet, I lose the same bet.”

“Jiho,” Seunghee said, quietly, exasperated. “Why?” It wasn’t a question.

“You know, sometimes it feels like the whole world is conspiring against me,” Jiho said. “After everything I have done for this department! After the 5K to end weeds!”

“Everyone thought it was a 5K to end weed, and the counterprotest next to the race was larger than the race itself.”

“It was tactical marketing and it killed two birds with one stone.”

“You made a mistake.”

“Of course I did!” Jiho shot back. “But I make mistakes more useful than my successes. I’m Kim Jiho! Amazing philosopher and expert lover.”

“Never say words like that again. I hate you,” Arin grumbled.

“Arin,” Jiho said, turning and frowning at her. “After everything I did for you. After letting you know about this internship and after I taught you everything I know about philosophy. How  _dare_ you.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Jiho just grinned in response. “Seunghee,” Arin said, looking over at her. “You’ll never guess what Jiho got in philosophy.”

Seunghee grinned. “Was it a D?”

“No it was-”

“It very well may have been,” Arin replied, only to Seunghee. Jiho gasped, offended.

“Wow,” Seunghee said. “She's not very good at philosophy, is she?”

“No, she's really not.”

“No,” Jiho tried to interject. “Because I-”

“What a shame it is,” Seunghee said, shaking her head.

“No.”

“That Jiho did not get-”

“Don't.”

“An A.” Jiho glared at Seunghee, then Arin, then back again at Seunghee. “In philosophy,” Seunghee finished.

“Fuck you both,”Jiho said, and then grabbed the hairbrush from the sink and stormed out of there.

Arin shrugged. “She’ll be fine,” she said.

“She will.”

* * *

Seunghee tapped her finger against her thigh, as silently as she possibly could manage. Hyojung sat beside her, quietly drinking in the paper in front of her, and Mimi and Binnie, seated across from the two of them, both looked uncomfortable.

“A fifteen percent budget cut?” Hyojung asked finally, glancing up at Binnie, only Binnie, and then back down to the paper.

“I’m fighting it right now. The cut will do more harm than good, and there are plenty of other ways they can make back the budget,” Binnie answered.

This was Seunghee’s least favorite part of her job. When Seunghee was young, when she first started working, there hadn’t been so many budgetary issues. Sure, they’d try and save money wherever they could, but the town was mostly left free to do what they wanted, comfortable in a financial security blanket.

“I think it’s ridiculous,” Mimi said, looking almost defiant, almost indignant, although that was difficult for her to pull off. “This department is indispensable! It’s ridiculous to cut it so severely. We’re going to fight tooth and nail to make sure this doesn’t happen.”

Hyojung smiled gratefully. “Either way,” she said, glancing at Seunghee. “We’ll need to start planning for this. Just in case.”

“I can get Shiah to start pulling in some files,” Seunghee said, sighing.

“There are some easy ways you can handle the cut, and some difficult ones,” Binnie said, standing up to leave. Mimi followed suit. “I’ll send you the list Mimi and I have been compiling pretty soon.”

Hyojung nodded, still looking at the paper. “Thank for all you’ve done so far. Both of you,” she said.

“Don’t thank us yet,” Binnie said, smiling wryly. 

* * *

“Put something here, about the Parks and Rec department really caring about engaging with the public.” Arin said, scribbling a note down for herself on some paper. 

“‘Parks and Rec public does some good bullshit’ probably isn’t a great voiceover.” 

Arin shrugged at the intern next to her. “It’s what they deserve.” 

“If everyone could please quiet down, we’re going to get started,” Hyojung said into the mic. Arin hit record, and Seunghee watched the last stragglers enter the sparsely populated meeting. “My name is Choi Hyojung, director of the Parks and Recreation department. Beside me is Hyun Seunghee, the deputy director.” Seunghee gave a small smile and a wave. “Next to her is Bae Yoobin, a town meeting member acting as a representative.” Binnie nodded. “And Kim Jiho, who works in the department. Please know this meeting is being broadcast on public broadcasting, and the town is recording it for some promotional content. This is an open  forum meeting, so we are here to hear your concerns about the town.” 

“Yeah okay.” Someone had quite literally stumbled up to the mic to begin. “My name is Kyungwon and I’m here to talk about the weed dispensary.” 

“That’s not under the Parks and Rec department’s jurisdiction-“ Binnie tried to cut her off, but was ignored. 

“Weed is beastiality and I don’t want it.” 

“Listen it-“ 

“Thank you for your concern,” Hyojung said, smiling. “We’ll look into it.” 

“Yeah, hi.” Another person. “Why was Im Nayoung fired from Dollar Depot.” 

“Dollar Depot are a bunch of backstabbing liars!” Someone screamed from the back. 

“What did they do?” The speaker asked. 

“They fucking know!” 

“Okay,” Seunghee said, clearing her throat. 

“The pool house is wet.” Someone new. “The floor of the pool house, where I shower after being in the pool, is wet. It-“ 

Someone roughly pushed the speaker out of the way, before glaring at the Parks and Rec department.

“Where,” she paused, her mouth so close to the mic they could hear her breathing. “Is it?”

“Where is what?” Jiho asked. Seunghee let out a long sigh, and Arin gave her a curious look.

“Kang Yaebin, get out of here,” Binnie growled, glaring.

“Where is it, Bae Yoobin?” Yaebin stood defiantly at the mic, standing up as straight as possible.

“We don’t have it.”

“We don’t have what?” Jiho asked, louder this time.

“The trough,” Yaebin said, glancing at Jiho, untrusting. “The Springfield historical trough. Your town  _stole_ it.”

“How did we steal a hundred pound stone trough,” Seunghee asked, exasperated. “Like a big one that was used to feed pigs.”

“If you just come clean I won’t have to call the cops,” Yaebin said, ignoring her. “I already know who has it.”

“  _Why_ would someone steal that?” Jiho asked.

“You’ve been claiming that for five years,” Binnie said. “And I’ll call your bluff.”

Hyojung clapped her hands together, cutting off the conversation. Seunghee nearly started crying right then, she was so grateful. “The hour is over, thank you all for coming to this public forum, but sadly we cannot take any more questions until the next one.” Yaebin gave on last, sweeping glare of everyone on the panel, before turning and stalking out.

That night, Arin went home, greeted her parents cheerfully, and lived her evening as normal. That night, while she was taking out the trash, she noticed something along the side of the garage that she never really noticed before, but which had certainly appeared sometime after she was born. That night, in the damp garage, with nobody to hear her, Arin whispered quietly, only to herself, “the trough.” 

* * *

“We’re going clubbing,” Shiah had said, popping her head into Seunghee’s office. Arin was with her, talking about some of the work she’d been doing for the welcome video.

“There are no ‘nos’ in baseball,” Jiho said, popping her head in above Shiah’s.

And so they went, because who were they to stop the wills and whims of Jiho and Shiah. They were the  _backbones_ of this department, Seunghee would say on any regular day (a saying she’d gotten from Hyojung), and keeping the backbones of your department happy is imperative to a well oiled local government machine.

But if Seunghee was going they were going to invite Hyojung (they were going to invite Hyojung anyway), and Mimi had somehow found her way into Hyojung’s office (“probably to threaten her,” Jiho had remarked), and so now Mimi was going clubbing too. And because Mimi was going, she had to offer to invite Binnie, which Hyojung had agreed to well before Jiho could voice her complaints.

Of course, Arin probably also should have realized that clubbing in a town like theirs meant going down to what was more akin to a local bar than a club, and ordering appetizers and drinks. She found herself caught between desperately avoiding eye contact with some girls she knew from high school a few tables over, and Binnie and Jiho beside her, who were both wolfing down buffalo wings like their lives depended on it.

“Just wait until we get everyone a little tipsy,” Shiah had said, leaning towards Arin and winking. At that, Arin began to really fear for this night.

* * *

“  _DON’T STOP ! ! BE-LIEV-ING !”_

It was karaoke night. Of  _course_ it was karaoke night. It was karaoke night and Arin, stupid twenty year old Arin who couldn’t just drink herself into oblivion and forget this night, stupid Arin had to deal with the repercussions of their actions, the secondhand embarrassment that could only be brought on by the horrifying, truly horrifying, power of friendship.

Shiah had disappeared, somewhere into the night where she could collect all the chaos emeralds or defeat the last of the sith lords or god knows what else (Arin certainly doesn’t). Alcohol had brought Binnie and Jiho into an incredibly quiet and intense conversation, the likes of which Yewon could only imagine. She actually tried to lean in to hear some of it, and the only phrase intelligible to her was “but if what Amenhotep said were true,” and quite frankly she just wasn’t there yet. Mentally, she just knew she wasn’t in that place yet. But maybe soon.

And she knew Seunghee and Hyojung were also conspiring. She’d been starting to figure out what Seunghee’s conspiring face looked like, and she was most certain it was that. And she should have anticipated. She should have known what would happen when you have Hyojung and Seunghee drunk, and there’s open mic karaoke. This is really her fault, now that she thinks about it. She should have planned.

“Rob Thomas,” is the only thing she hears, before they’re up singing some 2000s pop station hit that definitely resonated too hard with Yewon’s ten year old self. She’s left with just Mimi, because Binnie and Jiho might as well be gone, actually she heard something about buying a whiteboard. She doesn’t want to get involved, and at least they aren’t fighting.

“How old are you?” Mimi asked suddenly, before Seunghee and Hyojung began to sing but after they’d gone up to put their names on the list. Arin knew Hyojung and Seunghee had known each other for a while, but she almost never saw the two of them together, and she was reminded of some wise advice Jiho thought to give her (which is already not a good sign), that the two of them had a secret sort of competitiveness, mostly with each other. They looked like they were taking drunk karaoke very seriously, and Arin was pretty sure they were doing the same vocal warm ups she saw her high school friends in choral groups do before big shows.

“Twenty, I’m in college right now,” Arin answered, turning to look at Mimi. She was decidedly less drunk than the rest of them, or maybe she was just holding it better, but she still looked uncomfortable with conversation. Arin couldn’t blame her. The music was loud.

“What do you study?”

“Environmental sciences.” Mimi nodded. Seunghee and Hyojung took the stage at this point, well, really it was a half step of elevation that they called a stage, and both of them turned to watch.

“What made you look for an internship there,” she asked, still watching the stage.

Arin shrugged, even though she knew Mimi wasn’t watching her. “Jiho said it would be a good experience.”

“Has it been?”

Arin paused to think. “Jiho also thinks that you and Binnie are conspiring on something big in our department, so you know.” She trailed off.

Mimi smiled, eyes still glued on the two performing. “So then she’s been spot on.” Arin tried to ignore it.

* * *

Arin didn’t like to play love doctor for a department she wasn’t working for, but she didn’t seem to have as much field work to do anymore, and the Parks and Rec department somehow had the newest computer in the building, which made it the most useful for importing their videos (it was the only one that wasn’t still running on Windows Vista. How were they supposed to get things done in this modern technological era when half the computers lost their minds at the possibility of importing a video longer than twenty seconds).

That also meant she had to deal with Jiho gliding by her and saying “They’re like fire and ice,” in a tone of voice that somehow told Arin to deal with  _whatever_ that meant.

When Arin went and asked Seunghee a simple, noncommittal, non-confrontational “what’s up?” she got the ever pleasant response of “Hyojung already  _knows_ what she did.”

Which caused her to sit in a chair in front of Hyojung’s desk and ask as casually as she could muster, “are you and Seunghee fighting?”

“Yes,” Hyojung answered simply.

“Okay well  _why_ are the two of you fighting?”

“I wrote a note right here, just last night, that says that I’m mad at Seunghee, and I trust the note I made last night,” Hyojung said, showing her phone to Arin. And indeed the phone remarked that, and indeed Arin left with now more answers than she had entered with, and yet still no conclusions.

And today was a day Hyojung was at the office the whole day too, which only made things worse. Normally when she was at the office the two of them were in and out of each others door, a pair of annoying but beloved friends. Now they sat with their doors defiantly open, occasionally glaring at the wall that divided the two offices.

“This happens every time we go drinking,” Shiah said, finally taking pity on the way Arin kept looking between the two doors like a lost and confused puppy.

“I feel like my mom and my older teenage sister are fighting, and I’m too young to understand her sudden desire for more independence from the oppression of the family unit.”

“Yeah, okay, in this moment I finally understand why you and Jiho are friends,” Arin wanted to look offended, but couldn’t find it in herself to. “They get into some ordeal about something that happened while they were drunk, as if any of us ever understand what they’re on about, and then they get over it before the day is over. Have faith in them.”

And Arin tried to. And sure enough before she left to give files to her supervisor, Seunghee rushed out of her office and into Hyojung’s, laptop in hand, and the two seemed animated as if nothing had happened. Yewon found out later that one particular fight had prevented them from speaking outside of work matters for a whole month. It was a terrible whole month, as well.

* * *

Mimi entering Seunghee’s office was certainly a surprise. But Seunghee always enjoyed herself some company, and smiled pleasantly and offered Mimi a seat.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“She’s  _lurking_ again,” Jiho said from the doorway, glaring at Mimi, who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “She was looking to show some papers to Hyojung, but she’s out.”

“Thanks Jiho,” Seunghee said, and that somehow seemed to placate her enough to depart from the doorway and return to maybe her work. Maybe.

“Some papers you have to approve,” Mimi said, handing the manilla folder over to Seunghee. Seunghee opened them up, scanning them over quickly.

“Oh, we don’t have to officially approve this stuff for the proposal, but I can look it over for you if you want,” she said. Mimi shrugged. “Actually, I’ll probably be out tomorrow, so I can leave these with Hyojung and you can pick them up from her.” And she watched Mimi visibly untense a little bit, and give her a small, grateful smile.

“Thanks,” she said, and made no motion to leave.

“Do you still need anything?” Seunghee asked, and Mimi startled, as if realizing that Seunghee’s office was suddenly not where she was supposed to sit all the time.

“Sorry, I’ll see you later, yeah, thanks.” And she was gone, and Seunghee placed the folder on the top of her pile of work to do for the day.

Seunghee certainly didn’t like to entertain Jihonian fantasies, but she was starting to get the feeling that Mimi’s visits to the Parks and Rec department weren’t always strictly business related, and certainly weren’t to see Seunghee.

* * *

Seunghee is the last to pack up on Friday’s, usually, so she sits and she gets to watch the way everyone leaves. She gets to see the ways that the group fits.

Shiah leaves first, usually at five. She’s been applying to grad schools, and Seunghee’s pretty sure she’ll leave the department soon to follow her dreams. But every Friday she pops her head in the office to ask Seunghee if she wants to get a drink over the weekend. Seunghee always says yes.

Shiah certainly won’t be leaving them anytime soon.

Jiho waits until Binnie walks by the front door to their office on her way out, and every time she slaps the girl on her shoulder and says something so quintessentially Jiho, and Binnie retorts, and Seunghee gets to watch them give their usual rapport on the way out.

Mimi sometimes leaves with them. She says she’s there to help Binnie, so it would make sense, but Seunghee’s been doing a good job of clueing in on her ulterior motives; Watching the way she sits outside their office, just off of the directors office’s line of vision, but still within Seunghee’s. Hyojung shuts the lights off on her way out, and Seunghee watches Mimi straighten her back to her full height (which Seunghee begrudgingly recognizes seems really tall to the likes of her and Hyojung), and put on her best “I’m a talented successful lawyer face” as she yet again  _accidentally_ runs into Hyojung while they’re on their way out of the building. Seunghee makes a mental note to snag Mimi’s phone number from Binnie so she can text her when Hyojung’s about to leave. She wonders if Binnie knows or not.

Seunghee leaves alone, at the end of the night, after she’s finished her work in the solitary light of her office. Quietly watching her family go home to their families.

“You’re still here?” The main office lights are flicked on. Arin’s got her huge camera over her shoulder, standing in the doorway to her office, looking surprised to see Seunghee there.

“So are you?”

“I was told to get some shots of the empty offices. They want something artsy about the expansion of the local government over time.”

“I hope they’re offering you a job, after everything they’re making you do.”

Arin gave a smile. “Yeah, so do I. Are you leaving now?”

“I’ve got one or two more things to do. Do you need me to wait in the hallways for you to film?”

Arin looked at Seunghee’s desk for a moment, before shaking her head and sitting down on Seunghee’s couch. “I’ll wait for you to finish.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Arin grinned. “You’re always last to leave.”

“I don’t mind it,” Seunghee said. And truly she didn’t.

Arin shrugged. “I do.” And truly she did.

They sat in silence for a little, Seunghee silently engrossed in her work, and Arin patiently waiting.

“They asked if I wanted to work as an intern in a department, my choice, since the video intros aren’t going to take that long,” Arin said, finally breaking the silence. Seunghee looked up. “So, effective next Monday, you’ll be my boss, if that’s cool.”

Seunghee offered a small smile. “That sounds excellent. We’ll be lucky to have you.”


End file.
